Garden of Eve
by Little Hairy Eyeball
Summary: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards. Spike and Buffy take the road towards Adam
1. Prologue

TITLE: "Garden of Eden"  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
"Eat a cookie; ease my pain?" Willow's face is so filled with hope, how the heck am I supposed to say no? Even if she has left me more confused that the Trig pop quiz from last year.  
  
"Mm. Better?" I love the girl to death, but sometimes she makes being her friend hard work. Is that a bad thing to say?  
  
"Well, baking lifts about 30% of my guilt, but only 7% of my inner turmoil. Guess that'll just take awhile."  
  
I smile now, "It'll happen." That's the Willow I know and love. She'd be horrified if I'd been left sucking face with Spike a moment longer. Heck, so would I.  
  
"Don't I get a cookie?" Speaking of the bleached wonder, there he is.  
  
"No." Why does he get me so pissed off, so quickly? My annoyance reaches a passionate level when I'm around him for more than two seconds. And I've really got to stop using worlds like passionate when I'm talking about Spike. It's not of the good.  
  
"Well, I gotta have something. I still have Buffy taste in my mouth." Wonderful, now he's looking right at me.  
  
"You're a pig, Spike." He really is, being engaged to him only made him worse. He's such an old fashioned guy. Like a total.misogynist. Hey, Willow would be so proud of me for using that word.  
  
"Yeah. Well I'm not the one who wanted, "Wind Beneath My Wings" for the first dance." And he had to yell that part because why? He hasn't caused me enough pain for one day?  
  
"That was the spell." God, he really does know how to push my buttons. I've got to get out of this place. Or at least get out of sight of Spike. He's making me uncomfortable, what with all the looking, and talking, and the looking. I should have known Willow would come scurrying after me. God, do I really sound that bitchy? I don't know what's wrong with me today, I swear.  
  
"Did I mention about the sorry part?" I think the look I'm giving her says it all.  
  
"We may be into a forgetting spell later." Although I'm not sure I want to. Best kissage of my life, so far. "I loved him. We were betrothed." Oh my God, I can't believe I was so happy about it. I was so excited.  
  
"Well, at-at least you were getting along." Says my ever-hopeful friend. She really doesn't have a clue sometimes.  
  
"But we weren't. I mean it wasn't even nice. And the bad-boy thing? Over it. Okay, I totally get it. I'd be really happy to be in a nice relationship with a decent, reliable.. Oh my God! Riley thinks I'm engaged." Shit. I'd forgotten about him. Mr. Normal, in with a chance.  
  
"Riley. He saw me. What the hell am I going to say?" Other than, hey there buddy! My slightly insano roommate cast a spell, and I was macking on my mortal enemy for a while. Wanna grab a coffee some time? Oh God, this whole thing has been a nightmare, and now I have to try and fix it.  
  
---  
  
"You thought I was serious?" He really is quite handsome.  
  
"Well, no.. um.. you weren't serious?" Wow, but look at that face. He and Willow would make a great couple. They're completely oblivious, the pair of them. But the show must go on, right?  
  
"Oh, God, please. I'd marry a guy named Spike?" His name is actually William, yanno.  
  
"Maybe. We haven't known each other that long." Oh God, there's that hopeful face again. He's like a big old puppy, looking for love.  
  
"No, it's just... I saw that fear in your eyes when you caught me looking at wedding dresses, and I had to give you a hard time."  
  
"I did not have fear in my eyes." He's quite adamant, but I know him better than he realizes.  
  
"Yes you did. You were looking at me like I was a cartoon ball and chain!" Ah, see the guilt flash across your face? I saw it.  
  
"So you decided to tell me you're getting married." Wow, is he an hour behind in this conversation, or what?  
  
"Uh-huh." And I'd really like you to know, that some people wouldn't fail that test. In fact, there are some guys who embrace the idea of marriage. They see it as nice normal idea. Except for the whole being a neutered vampire part, and my God, am I comparing Riley to Spike now? Willow is deader than dead.  
  
"So, you're insane." Oh wow! You sure do know your way to a girl's heart.  
  
"Uh-huh!" Being this perky is making my face hurt. I just want to go home.  
  
"But you're still single?"  
  
"Yes." Ahhh, now he's getting to the important questions! Let's see if he's got the stones to actually ask me out. I did not just say stones, I didn't.  
  
"Okay, then. Just another little piece of the Buffy puzzle."  
  
What, that's it? No date, no coffee, no nothing? "You really have a lot to learn about women, Riley." Or do I have to draw you a chart?  
  
"You're gonna teach me." He walked off. Wait, did he just cornball me and leave? What the hell? I am seriously not liking these college boys. Is he supposed to leave me hanging? Wait. Am I supposed to care? I mean, nice guy and all, but apart from putting a crimp in my plans for "normal boyfriend, take 2" he's really not made an impact. He's just not doing it for me, at all. He's too nice, and sweet, and smells like cut grass. Where's the edge of danger I like?  
  
I like danger? Since when? Oh God, Willow is so unbelievably dead. 


	2. Chapter One

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
"So you're saying what, exactly?" Willow rolled over to face her roommate, confusion marring her brow.  
  
Buffy sighed heavily, and continued picking at her comforter in an effort to keep her emotions in check.  
  
"I don't know, Will. I mean, one minute Riley seems like a choice candidate, and he's so nice and sweet, and just what I need, yanno? Then an evening of Spike leaves me feeling so.. meh over the guy."  
  
"Meh? He makes you meh? Oh, that's can't be good. Even Parker didn't make you meh, not even post-poophead." The red-head frowns now, realizing the turmoil her little accident has put her friend in.  
  
"Buffy, best friend to best friend and everything, would you ever..What I mean is, could you.."  
  
Buffy sits upright, knowing exactly where her friend is going with this line of questioning. Willow always gets that flustered look when she wants to talk about nookie.  
  
"Never! My God, Wills! How hard up do you think I am? Going for another vampire? One who has tried to kill me on several occasions, and loves to make my life miserable? How insane would I have to be, to want to jump his bones?"  
  
"Pretty darn insane," says the witch with a smirk. "That's not to say you are insane, but are you telling me you haven't thought about it? Not even once"  
  
"Eww, no. I had to live it, remember? There is zero fantasizing on the Spike front. Only a real sicko would have any interest in that!"  
  
"So I'm a real sicko? I mean, he is easy on the eyes, and if you're not going to stand in my way."  
  
Buffy is ready to launch into a lecture, but notices the smirk on her friends face. "I'm totally busted, aren't I?  
  
"Oh yea," Willow smirks. She saw the look of horror and anger cross her friends face. She even saw a hint of jealousy there. So she has thought about it, at least a little bit. But her spell caused everything to bubble up to the surface, didn't it? She caused this. She needs to handle the situation delicately, lest she pushes her friend away. "Did you? I mean is today the first time you've thought of Spike like that? I mean, is this.."  
  
She's too afraid to finish the sentence, as it will mean Buffy replies and her own worst fears are confirmed. She pushed her emotionally fragile best friend into the arms of a blood-sucking fiend. Giles is going to be very un- happy with her.  
  
"Relax Will." Buffy sits on the bed next to her friend, and pats her hand. The reassurance lifts a great weight from the redhead, and she realized she'd been holding her breath. "The thing with Spike is. Well, I'd have to be blind not to notice those cheekbones, yanno? And he fights. So well, I'm the kind of girl that digs that. Even more when the violence isn't directed at me, but it's a minor detail. Just because I had a few dreams about Spike, doesn't mean I'm going to act on them."  
  
"Plural?" Willow is staring at Buffy know, causing the Slayer to shift under the scrutiny. "You said dreams, plural, as in more than one? As in multiple?" Her face lights up, "Were they good? Will you share details?"  
  
Buffy laughs. The first honest to goodness laugh she's had in days. She needed this.  
  
"C'mon! Best friend here! We're always good for secret keeping. Plus? Seriously deprived since her boyfriend ran away to embrace his inner wolf. I need all the vicarious sexy I can get"  
  
Another laugh. How could she stay mad at Willow for more than a moment? The girl is actually bouncing now, desperate to hear some mad stories of a mismatched couple that will never see the light of day, in more ways than one.  
  
"Okay, but we're going to need serious ice-cream for this"  
  
---  
  
"So we're chasing this demon, and I'm like "Giles! Giles!" while Spike is still trying to talk himself out of the hard-on"  
  
The girls are laying head to toe on the bed, surrounded by candy wrappers and an air of sisterhood.  
  
"Oh my God, that is a weird one. Was there cheese? Because when I eat cheese before I fall asleep, I always see the little pink bunny that chews my toes."  
  
Buffy stops sucking her candy long enough to look shocked, before she breaks into another case of hysterical laughter.  
  
"My God, Wills. Remind me to never ask about your dreams! But anyways, that's where it ends. Weird, huh? Even in my dreams, I'm always chasing the monsters."  
  
She frowns slightly at that realization. She'll never escape this, will she? Her dammed chosen destiny, the one that she never wanted to start with. It doesn't matter that she embraces her nature and does what she can; the fact is she was never given a choice to start with.  
  
Willow can sense the mood has changed. They've gone from giggling co-eds straight to the deep conversations. She always was better suited to those anyway. Something about sex talk always makes her uncomfortable. Or maybe it's just the word penis. She really doesn't like it.  
  
"You don't think it's prophetic do you?"  
  
Buffy snorts loudly, "Oh it really is! Me! All hot for my arch-nemesis. The one I want to smack upside the head instead of stake. So totally pathetic, there are no words."  
  
Willow smiles warmly, "I said prophetic, little miss sugar-high. Like, a slayer dream?"  
  
Buffy ponder this for several moments before laughing again. "Yeah, my slayer dreams include Spike. Oh God, the Powers that Be must be getting such a headache from me!" But now Willow has planted that seed of doubt in her mind. Could her dreams have deeper meanings? Should she have written them down?  
  
"Oh My God!"  
  
Willow looks up, startled by her friend's revelation. Buffy looks Willow dead in the eye, before a smile cracks across her face.  
  
"Can you imagine if they were? I'd have to tell Giles!" That's just too much for the Slayer, and she falls backwards, laughing hard. Willow takes a moment to process what's been said, before snickering herself. Within moments, she's on her back grabbing her sides, along with her best friend.  
  
"He'd be cleaning his glasses for weeks!" 


	3. Chapter Two

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
Buffy had spent a good forty-five minutes talking herself into going to Giles' apartment, and was really wishing she's gone with her first instinct to run. Spike had done nothing but look at her, the whole meeting. Looking at her, with his stupid blue eyes, with the watching. Of course, whenever she'd turned to look at him, he quickly turn his head, but she knew damn well what he was up to.  
  
Stupid eyes. That's what he was. Mr. Stupid eyes. All blue and bright, she was dangerously close to launching herself over the couch and clawing them out.  
  
Oops, Giles was talking again, wasn't he? Whatever, she'd get the notes from Willow after class. But this isn't class, is it? So stop focusing on the bleached-blonde pest, and to Watchery pest.  
  
"Buffy? Are you with us? Asks Giles with a slight air of concern.  
  
"I'm fine Giles, just tired. I really didn't sleep well last night." Crap. That comment earned a raised eyebrow from Spike, and a furrowed brow from her watcher. Stupid Englishmen. "There was a.. loose dog? Running around campus? Wouldn't stop barking." Yeah, that's the ticket, Giles has already lost interest, but Spike has now folded his arms across his chest, obviously curious. "Oh c'mon Spike! You know how annoying those little leashed yappers can be." A smirk graces her lips as the line escape. One point for the Slayer, while the Vampire has yet to score.  
  
Crap, she'd said that last part out loud. Stupid Eyes. "Oh, I can score any time I want to love, leashed or not." Now that's a smirk.  
  
"Okay Giles, I'm heading out. I have much hearty studying to do, topped off with a date, for which I plan to look killer." Yea, that last part was directed at Stupid eyes. Does that make her evil? Or just a tease? Oh God, either way she was insane.  
  
"I wouldn't worry there, Goldilocks. You've pretty much got killer written all over you"  
  
With one last scowl, Buffy flounced out of the apartment with Willow in hot pursuit. Giles started to put away the coffee mugs, and Spike fell backwards onto the couch, completely defeated.  
  
---  
  
By the time a bickering Anya and Xander arrived at the apartment, Giles was sure the end of the world was near. It was the only rational reason he could think of, for the simply strange behaviours of the youngsters in his life. He looked to where Spike was apparently binge eating on the last of the Weetabix. Scratch that, the strange behaviours of just about everybody in his life. God, he needed a vacation, and Olivia had promised him a break from the doldrums. He really needed to get away from the Hellmouth for a while.  
  
---  
  
Stuck in the Whelps basement, tied to a bloody chair. Well, wasn't that brilliant. Could his un-life get any more pathetic? Oh, good one Spike. That'll prevent any more thoughts of the Slayer, I'm sure. So damn small and frail, yet filled to the brim with such unearthly power. It's not a surprise really. He's only human. At least, he used to be. He can understand the attraction. Throw in an evening of her tiny backside wiggling against you, and you're set up for some serious dreams. He just wished the dreams would end there. One good wank, and Bobs you're uncle! All done. But no, he was thinking about her when she was awake. Why on earth did the powers have to be so cruel? Wasn't it bad enough he was on a damn "leash" and shacked up with a pizza delivery boy with a serious case of penis envy? This had better pass, and soon. Or else he'd.. well, he's not sure what he'd do. Not sure what he can do at this point.  
  
---  
  
Patrol sucked. That's all. A simple theory that made perfect sense. Buffy really wasn't in the mood for it tonight, but instead of saying no, she was on her way to pick up the pet-project. Why she had to baby-sit Spike was beyond her.  
  
She approached Xander's house to find the vampire sitting on the curb, throwing pebbles across the street. With a sigh, she sat beside him. After a few moments of silence and the boredom of watching Spike pick apart the gravel, she spoke up.  
  
"So, whatcha doing out here?"  
  
"The whelp and the demon bird couldn't wait for you to get here. So they got to shagging, and I got the boot. I am officially the saddest git on the planet," sighed Spike, staring intently at his boots. Buffy could barely suppress a smirk, but she did. She was feeling quite benevolent right now. She must be tired. She stood and dusted off her jacket. "C'mon Spike. Let's watch me kill things. It'll be fun, I swear"  
  
Spike looked up at her, no humour in his face. Bleeding Slayer would be the death of him. Yes, let's put Spikey on display while I kill his kind. I'm sure word won't get to the street that he's aligned himself with the Slayer.  
  
He swiftly stood, grabbing his smokes from his pocket. With a twirl of his lighter, he spun around and headed out to the graveyard with Buffy in hot pursuit. If he was going out, he was going out watching her kill. The only high-point he could think of right now. 


	4. Chapter Three

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
Spike got the unnerving feeling that the Slayer wanted to talk. She was getting into a habit of stopping to look at him. Then she'd open her pretty mouth, before reconsidering and walking off again. It was funny to start with, but now it was just bloody annoying.  
  
"Slayer, for the love of all things holy, would you just spit it out already!"  
  
Buffy's face went from pre-occupied to shock, to disgust within a matter of seconds. "Eww Spike! Is that all you think about? And I already know that was the wrong thing to say, my God could I be more of a tool!" With that the Slayer slumped on the ground, using poor Douglas McRae's final words as her backrest. The vampire slid down next to her, playing with a semi- crushed packet of cigarettes.  
  
"Wanna talk about it?" At the sight of Buffy's shocked expression, Spike decided to hell with it. "Look Slayer, I know you're feeling the stress of school and slaying, and trying to nail the captain of the football team, or whatever it is the enormous hall monitor does. I know you're trying not to worry your mum, since you left home. I also know that your dammed Scoobies seem pretty oblivious to how you're managing to juggle it all. So I'm offering my services so to speak."  
  
The words hung in the air, as Buffy studied Spike's face. He seemed almost genuine, for an un-dead fiend and all.  
  
"Okay, what's in it for you?"  
  
An indignant Spike jumped up, and began pacing.  
  
"Oi, I was trying to be nice! Keep your enemies close and all that rot, yeah? Work with what I'm given, which is apparently is a bloody white hat, but nooooo. Spike must have ulterior motives, mustn't he?" At the sight of a quirked eyebrow from the Slayer, Spike once more collapsed against the grave. "Okay. Would it make you feel better if I said I could privately revel in your pain? Use it to hatch the nefarious plans I could never execute?"  
  
Buffy smiled at that, and bowed her head. Mr. Stupid Eyes strikes again.  
  
There was silence for a few minutes, and Spike studied the Slayer, and she paid close attention to the blades of grass next to her leg. Spike was just about to pull a smoke out when she suddenly spoke.  
  
"They don't get it, yanno? They say they do, but they don't understand what it's like"  
  
"Being forced into a role you didn't want?"  
  
She looked up at him then, the faintest hint of a smile gracing her face. "Exactly."  
  
"Yeah, been there myself. Once. Or twice, it would appear. Well, you know what they say.  
  
"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?" Buffy rolled her eyes. Even the Big Bad was full of the feel good clichés.  
  
"Actually, I was going to go with "Life's a bitch, and then you die," but yours works too"  
  
They both laughed then, and the tension that seemed to be building over the past few days melted away, as Buffy turned to look at her unusual confidante.  
  
"The stupidest part? They want it. What I've got. I know Xander, and he'd give his right eye for my power and responsibility. Where's the sense in that? If I could, I'd just give it to him! Say "have fun" and then skip off to class, or a party..or whatever the hell I wanted."  
  
"No you wouldn't pet." At her indignant expression, Spike waded in. "You might not have wanted your power, but who would you be without it?"  
  
"God, probably Cordelia," sighed Buffy. She hated that Spike could be so damn astute.  
  
"Right. And the idea horrifies you now, doesn't it? You've grown up, and not just in the "I'm going to college" sense. You've seen the pain of the world. You know what's going on. You could never just ignore all that. Even if your powers were stripped tomorrow, you'd be by the Scoobies side, fighting the good fight and what not."  
  
Buffy sighed. "You're right. I hate that, yanno."  
  
Spike barked a little before standing up and scanning the graveyard. "Oh, I know, luv. Tell you what, I promise not to be insightful for the rest of the day. How's that?"  
  
Buffy stood alongside him, sporting an honest to goodness smile. "Sounds good, Spikey. I say we call it a night now anyways. This place is dead, no pun intended, and I'm sure Xander is all finished with Anya."  
  
"Probably finished about five minutes after I left," scoffed Spike. Buffy swatted his arm, before brushing the last of the grass from her pants.  
  
"Be nice. He's your roommate, and he's trying. Kinda. Oh, go home Spike!" She laughed now, but not at his pain, just the situation. God, she was messed up.  
  
"Yeah Slayer, I'll see you tomorrow no doubt." Without a backwards glance, Spike sauntered off, leather duster billowing around him like..God Buffy, he's just a friend!  
  
Friend? Buffy sighed. Why couldn't things just be simple in her life? Now she was having pleasant chitchat with the vampire who had this pesky tendency to try and kill her? And it was. Pleasant, that is. She'd felt lighter since talking with him. It's weird the way things work out. Especially when she should be focusing on the weird soldier guys that were in the neighbourhood. Not that they were doing her any harm really, but if nothing else, for Spike's sake.  
  
Buffy snorted. For Spike's sake? She really was insane, but she's pretty sure she means it. 


	5. Chapter Four

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
Spike woke up, and immediately knew something was wrong. By the time he'd realized calling for "Nummy Treat" was a bust, he was starting to panic. Not as much as the boy though. Xander was pacing and gesturing, with nothing to say. He just pointed. Brilliant. The whelp thinks what exactly? He managed to cast some sort of muting spell, while trussed up on a rather stinky chair? And of course, he's cast the spell on himself? God, that boy was a menace to society. Not a single bloody thought in his head.  
  
They'd finally decided to make their way over to Rupert's. No doubt the watcher man would have some answers. Or at the very least, he'd have some theories. Then the Slayer could kick the ass of whoever was responsible, and everything would get back to normal. Only this time, he wasn't going back to the basement. Enough is enough you know. He's his own man, he can bloody well live alone. No doubt he'd had to endue another argument with his Slayer over not being able to protect himself, but he was ready for it. And he did enjoy seeing her flustered.  
  
---  
  
By the time Buffy and Willow finally arrived at Giles' apartment, they were both thoroughly freaked. In hindsight, maybe walking through the town madness hadn't been the best idea, but they'd wanted to meet up with everybody else as soon as possible. Everyone seemed so miserable and concerned. Especially poor Olivia. She just looked wigged to the max. First time in Sunnydale, Buffy muses. Must be hell of a culture shock. She briefly scanned the room, and rested her eyes on Spike. At least a panicked Xander hadn't staked him out of fear. He gave her a small reassuring smile before returning to the book in his hand, and Buffy realized it was time for research. Ugh. Research bites.  
  
Grabbing a whiteboards, Buffy tells the gang to keep on the research, while she patrols through town. God only knows what will happen when the sun goes down. She shudders at this. The idea of vamps and other nasties attacking whoever they fancied, and nobody being able to scream? So not of the good.  
  
Spike claps his hand to get the attention of the group, before gesturing to Buffy. He knows he won't be any real help, but at least he's an extra pair of eyes for the Slayer. Buffy obviously gets it, and she quickly nods. Standing, with her full serious mode face on, she waits while Spike throws on his boots, and they head out into the night.  
  
---  
  
The town is in chaos, plain and simple. Buffy has managed to break apart half a dozen fights, easily, and there's plenty more. Spike just walks alongside her, trying to look as intimidating as possible to the men that watch the petite young woman stride down the street. Yeah, they're thinking she's feisty and can't cry out, but he's making sure they understand he's with her. His posture is screaming, "don't fuck with me", and he bloody loves it.  
  
Spike is ripped from his thoughts when some random big ugly tackles the Slayer and sends the pair of them sprawling. By the time Spike stands up, he can see his Slayer pounding the daylights into the lackey and smiles. It quickly fades when he sees two more headed towards her, and she has no bloody idea. He can't yell, can't get her attention, so he does the only thing he knows he does well.  
  
He charges with a silent battle cry and bowls the vamps over and away from Buffy, before bracing for the impending pain. But it never comes. Confused, he grabs lackey number one by the scruff and pulls him up. With a devilish smile, he plants a right hook right into the vamps nose. He can feel his fist making contact; feel the cartilage of the nose smashing, but the one thing he doesn't feel is the chip.  
  
He spins around, excited at the idea of getting in a spot of violence. He can't wait to tell Buffy, as now she'll have an actual spare pair of hands on patrol. Ouch. Shame he hadn't remembered about the damn vampire he just punched.  
  
---  
  
Buffy makes quick work of the vampire she was attacked by, and scouts the area. She soon spots Spike, being clubbed by the vamp he distracted for her, and she dashes over. She stakes the vamp without a second glance before giving Spike the once over for injuries. She mouths a thank you at him, knowing he must have given himself a hell of a migraine, protecting her. Spike beams, and starts gesturing wildly, before Buffy grabs both of his flailing arms and slowly asks him to calm down. Crazy vampire.  
  
Spike stands up, and slowly points to himself, earning a nod from Buffy. He points to the big pile of dust that was his attacker, and Buffy again nods. Spike smacks his left fist into the palm of his right hand, but Buffy looks confused, so he repeats the gesture, willing her to understand. She doesn't though, and simply makes an obscene gesture with her hand, causing Spike's eyebrows to damn near shoot off the top of his head. She rolls her eyes and picks up her discarded stake, repeating the gesture. Spike makes an "O" shape with his mouth, and she's pretty sure he's blush if he could. It's a thought that causes her to snort.  
  
They play charades for almost ten minutes, until Spike makes it clear that he hit the vamp and gained no pain from the experience. Buffy actually smiles at the news and even tries to high-five the vampire, getting a two- fingered salute instead. She snickers silently, before spotting a familiar face across the street.  
  
Spike is confused for all of a second, before he recognizes whom she's headed towards. Bloody hell! It's Riley Finn. Wonderful. The boy looks like he lacks good conversational skills on a good day. So he's that sure having no vocals will make the whole meetings bloody stimulating. He smiles slightly, when he sees Buffy dodge a kiss. Ahh. So White Bread isn't as in with a shot as he'd hoped? Interesting.  
  
The Slayer soon walks back over, a sheepish smile on her face. A quick gesture towards the other side of town, and they're walking in amicable silence back to her house. Once there, Joyce hugs her daughter as if she never wants to let go, and Spike smiles at the sentiment. Buffy is very lucky to have such a caring mum. He's kind of taken by surprise when the eldest Summers then grabs him in a bear hug. He quickly wriggles free and has the decency to look sheepishly grateful before shaking on the big bad attitude.  
  
Is the Slayer insane though? With no voices, how the hell is he supposed to get inside. He stands on the threshold expectantly, looking more than a little pissed off. That is, until Buffy pushes him inside, and he realizes his invite from damn near two years ago is still intact.  
  
Will wonders never cease? 


	6. Chapter Five

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
EMAIL: lilhairyeyeball@allwrongheaded.com  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
Tonight's patrol seemed to have a little more edge. Now that the Slayer and Spike know what they're looking for, thanks to Giles' handy-dandy imagery. Spike know he can fight alongside the Slayer; they're in pretty high spirits, even as they follow the creepy little bastards into the clock tower.  
  
It's fist and fangs time now, and the Gentlemen and their..dogs are pulling out all the stops. By the time Buffy and Riley face off, Spike is too knackered to care about the implications. So he's a soldier boy. He knew there was something iffy about him all along. Just assumed he was inbred.  
  
---  
  
So, Joe Ordinary is actually soldier come demon hunter? Buffy don't really have time to process this. They've got to get upstairs, like now. Spike is on the same page, clearing a path for her to escape though, and she nod before sprinting up, leaving both of them to fend off the uglies behind her. Of course, an extra pair of hands would be nice when she notices the full creepy Gentleman types up here. Before she knows what's happening, Spike has arrived on scene and has launched himself at two of the Gentlemen, with Riley in hot pursuit. She spots the music box from her dream on a table, and makes her way over, leaving the guys to handle the situation again.  
  
---  
  
The Slayers got some sort of box in her hand now; Spike can see that through the violence. Damn but these beggars are strong. She's staring though, with a look of horror on her face, and Spike looks in the direction she's staring.  
  
Finn. The poor bastard. Somehow he lost his defence and got a scalpel in the neck for his trouble. There's nothing they can do for him now, as he slides to the floor, with a frozen look of panic in his dying eyes.  
  
The Slayer is too preoccupied, and hasn't seen the Gentleman gliding towards her, and Spike can't get her attention. This is starting to become a bad bloody habit, that's for sure. Once again he charges at the danger, sending Buffy flying across the room, and the box smashing to the floor.  
  
That's when they see it. The essence is escaping from the remains of the box. It's the key. The voices. Buffy looks at Spike, with determination and murder in her eye, before he's sent flying backwards into a pile of wood and rubble, a large piece of wall studding going straight through his chest. The Slayer lets out an ungodly shriek, terrified that she's lost both men, and realizes she's screaming. The Gentlemen start to convulse and freak, before their heads explode.  
  
With the immediate danger out of the way, Buffy scurries over to where an un-dusty Spike still lies. The wood has missed his heart by at least three inches, and she lets out a breath she doesn't realize she's been holding. She looks into his eyes, and he grabs her hand, and he nods. Buffy wraps both of her hands firmly around the wood, and pulls. Spike cries out, and relaxes when he feels the foreign object leave his chest with a suck. He lies there for a moment, gathering himself, before sitting upright and checking on his Slayer. She's staring towards the crumpled body of Riley Finn, and he knows she's feeling the guilt. Unsure of how to handle the situation, he cautiously pats her shoulder, in a sign of reassurance, only to find himself with an armful of weeping Slayer within seconds.  
  
He holds her tightly while she cries, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of her head. Being chosen is one hell of a rough gig.  
  
---  
  
He manages to get her back to the dorm room, but there's no sign of Red anywhere. Probably still hitting the books with the Watcher, or worrying with the whelp. They'll soon realize that everything's back to normal; that their friend has once again saved the day.  
  
Who's going to save Buffy though? She had feelings for Finn, that much he'd guessed, but he hadn't realized they were that strong. It's kind of pissing him off, although he really wishes his brain would stop with that crap.  
  
He lays her down on her bed, and slowly takes her shoes off. He hopes she's not wigged herself into a coma or something. Christ almighty, did he just say wigged? He's been hanging around with the goodies for too damn long. And he's so damn tired. He looks down at where the Slayer lies in troubled sleep, and then over to the nice, comfy unoccupied bed next to him. Red's probably gone for the night now, and the Slayer really shouldn't be alone is her..damn it..grief, should she? With that battle of conscience sorted, he shucks off his duster, and stretches out on the single. Cramped, but still more comfy than the chair at Xander's. He really didn't realize how tired he was.  
  
---  
  
When he finally comes to, he's feeling great. No kinks in his body, the hole in his chest feels like it's healing, and someone is stroking his hair.  
  
Eh? That's a new one. He braves opening one eye, to find the Slayer sitting next to him, staring at his face.  
  
"Morning love. Are you feeling better? I want you to know, I did call 911, so Finn wasn't just abandoned or anything. Knew you wouldn't want that." He really is proud of himself for thinking of it. He's getting bloody morals now.  
  
"Hmm, that's nice," she says, almost as if she wasn't paying attention. "You almost died last night." She's expressionless as she states that, and he's not sure where she's going with it.  
  
"But I didn't, did I, pet? I'm fine, and almost healed up. Nothing to fret over."  
  
She frowns at this, as if he's told her he's lost a leg, but plans on becoming a professional football player.  
  
"But you could have. Died, that is. A squidge to the left, and that thing would have gone right through your heart." Her frown deepens now, "and then what? Nothing. Mr. Big Pile of Dust! And I would never have seen you again, and that pisses me off!"  
  
Spike is shocked now, wondering for a moment if she really has gone right round the sodding bend.  
  
"Luv," he speaks, slowly now, as if talking to a child. "I didn't die. I didn't go poof. I don't plan on being staked for a damn long while. It was a near miss, it happens. S'part of life, innit?"  
  
Wait, now she's pouting? What the hell is going on in that head of hers?  
  
"I know its part of life, ass face. It doesn't mean I have to like it. And I was worried. What if something had happened, and then you wouldn't have been around anymore, and I'd have to break the news to my mom, and who would I talk to about how much my friends are pissing me off and.." She breaks down crying, her shaking head resting on his chest. He's amazed. She's completely off her bird. She's raving, and it's about him. Like she'd be sad to see him gone?  
  
"You'd be sad to see me gone?" He's really trying to understand this. Women.  
  
"Of course I would," comes the muffled reply, and she looks up, wide tear- filled eyes staring right into his soul. If he had one, that is. But God, if she didn't make him think anything was possible, when she looked at him like that.  
  
He hesitantly strokes her cheek, wiping a tear from her face, before leaning forward until they're almost touching. "I've got to say, I'd be pretty sad if anything happened to you, either," he whispers on her face. Buffy's breathe hitches, and suddenly her mouth is so dry. But before she can even process the command to lick her lips or swallow, his mouth is on hers.  
  
Spike lips! Lips of Spike are her last coherent thoughts. 


	7. Chapter Six

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples  
  
---  
  
The past few days had been strange for Buffy. She'd wanted to go to Riley's funeral, but the details were surprisingly hush-hush. As Giles pointed out, being involved with a strange military group, who knows what the real deal was.  
  
She and Spike were getting on quite well, though neither had really talked about what had happened after the defeat of the Gentlemen. It's a guy thing though, right? Her track record was clear on the subject. Get close to a boy, and then get ignored by a boy. But he wasn't really ignoring her, and that was the confusing part. He still patrolled with her, and they talked until sunrise, but there had been no more kissage. Not even attempted kissage, and she was seriously starting to get ticked off by it.  
  
Willow knew something had happened that day, but by the time she'd arrived back at the room, Spike had vanished, and Buffy was in deep, deep denial. If there was nothing actually going on, there was nothing to talk about, right?  
  
Take today for example. They'd spent a nice girly day together, two girls with no romantic attachments, and now she was on her way to meet Spike. Buffy was going to help the vampire scout out a new place to live, of all things. In the freaking cemetery, of all places. Life was weird. Good, but weird.  
  
---  
"12 and a half feet? How short are these stiffs anyways?" asked Spike, as he snapped the tape measure up.  
  
"Hey, speaking for the short citizens of our fair dale, shaddup!" laughed Buffy, jotting the latest measurement in the notebook. "Have you considered some of the crypts over by the Alperts? Some of those are extra spacey. For freaky cereal boxes of death, I mean. There might be something a little more continental for a man of your tastes."  
  
Spike laughed. He loved this weird new friendship, no matter how perverted it could be considered. The Slayer of Slayers, crib hunting with the Chosen One. Not to mention the fact she'd painted his toenails fire engine red last night. He was broken from his thoughts by the enthusiastic squeal of a girl gone shopping.  
  
"Oh! This one! It's perfect!"  
  
Spike took a second to admire her choice. Got to admit it, the girls got style. There's just one tiny problem.  
  
"Um, luv? You do remember this one, right? And I quote "Wouldn't this be a perfect place for pictures?" Don't you think it might be less than appropriate?"  
  
Buffy blushed. Okay, she hadn't even noticed it was the same part of the graveyard that she'd picked for wedding photos. And damn, if that thought didn't make her think of kissing Spike, which made her think of the current lack of kissing . . . and she was not going to pout. Dammit.  
  
"Well, I don't feel weird, so you shouldn't feel weird. I mean, it's not weird, is it. Weird would be . . ."  
  
"Just can it, Slayer, I was thinking of you. Let's see what this puppy measures up to be, shall we?" He shook his head in fake dismay and began pulling out the tape, as Buffy took the other end and headed to the back of the Mausoleum.  
  
Buffy waited patiently for Spike to read out the measurement, and instead admired the foliage near-by. It really was beautiful. She frowned when she realized Spike still hadn't given her a number, and looked up to see what had him so pre-occupied.  
  
"Well. What do I spy with my little eye? A demon. That would be . . .oh, right . . . the things I can kill."  
  
Buffy sighed. And once again, it's time for the killing. His newfound zest for ridding the world of evil was starting to seriously cut into her fun time. Not that she could fault the guy. She was usually up for a little slay herself.  
  
The demon growled and snarled, and Buffy stood by, ready to step in and help Spike kill it, so she was surprised when he called it Giles, and rushed over.  
  
"And . . . by the way, why the hell are you suddenly a Fyarl demon? You just come over all demony this morning?"  
  
"What? Wait, this is Giles? What happened to Giles?" Buffy was wigged to the max now. Her pseudo-boyfriend was conversing in a strange language with a demon claiming to be her watcher? God, it must be Tuesday.  
  
---  
  
"As a matter of fact, I did. Thanks to Ethan Rayne. You have to help me find him. He must undo this and then he needs a . . . good being killed." Giles was incredibly frustrated now, having to get help from Spike and Buffy of all people! And wait, Spike and Buffy with tape measures?  
  
"And why are you measuring mausoleums anyway? Good grief, the pair of you. And why are you helping him Buffy? Desecrating the resting places of only God know who?"  
  
"What's he saying?"  
  
"It's a just a lecture, luv," assured Spike, as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Don't worry; I'm sure he'll give you a repeat performance once he's all proper again."  
  
"Well how the hell do we do that? I mean, who did this to him?" Buffy was wringing her hands. She so hated when things were out of control, and Spike as translator just screamed trouble, didn't it?  
  
"Some bloke called Ethan Rayne did it, apparently." At the look on his Slayer's face, he realized this wasn't just a simple nobody, but one of those Scooby nemesis types. Christ. Once upon a time, he would have teamed up with the bastard. Now he was going to hunt him down and kill him for hurting his Slayer. "I take it we know this fella, then?"  
  
Buffy snorted, and kicked at the ground. "Oh yeah. Think back, to a certain Halloween of chaos and destruction. That, my friend, was Ethan Rayne. I don't suppose you were around for the great band candy debacle of '98, were you? Lumpy over there went all Ripper on us, and slept with mom. On the hood of a police car!"  
  
"Rupert! You old dog! Joyce? Nice job." God bless the Fyarl language, otherwise that would have earned him a smack upside the head, he's sure.  
  
"Dear Lord, what has she been telling you? Look. We have important things to do! People to maim! Can we please not dilly dally around with stories of personal affairs."  
  
"Oi Slayer, the Watcher's getting tetchy. What say we bung him with the witch and the whelp while we round up this Rayne git? Eh?"  
  
Buffy nodded. She so couldn't deal with this.  
  
---  
  
Having a friend, who has no qualms about breaking and entering, is great. No need to cause too much damage when you have to get into places. Such as, say . . . a Magic shop to check out receipts? Within minutes, they'd confirmed that Ethan had been in town and bought supplies. Giles was right, and now Ethan was going to pay. Somehow. She hadn't gotten that far into the plan yet. She was pretty much winging it.  
  
She was waiting in the Desoto now, as Spike chatted up some waitress ho for information on Ethan. The chick had to be a ho, she could see them through the window. She was being all touchy-feely with Buffy's vampire. Ho. No, she was in no way, shape or form jealous. Not one little bit. God, WHY hadn't he kissed her again? Damn Stupid men, and damn stupid vampires.  
  
By the time he came back to the car, she'd worked herself into a nice little frenzy, but it was quickly neutralized when he presented her with Ethan's room number at the Sunnydale Lodge. He was like some sort of God.  
  
---  
  
"You're lucky we didn't gag you as well, Ethan!" Buffy slumped forward in her chair, trying to drown out the threat tactics that Spike and Willow were using on a currently bound Ethan. "I swear, you don't start talking soon, then I think Spike is going to start getting hungry, although I could be wrong."  
  
"Not wrong Red, I'm already getting the rumbles, just thinking about a free meal. You've got to love delivery." Spike, in game face, stroked his fangs with his tongue, causing Buffy's brain to take several trips to the gutter, before she decided enough was enough, and jumped to her feet.  
  
"Okay! Game over. Ethan, start talking, or I swear to God, I'll beat you, Giles will beat you and then we'll let Spike here finish you off. I haven't got the time or patience for this crap tonight!"  
  
Four pairs of eyes, two human, two demon, swivelled to face the fuming Slayer. That alone made Ethan uncomfortable, but the fact he didn't doubt her promises had him absolutely terrified.  
  
"Enough, I'll talk, just please send the girl away so I can concentrate on the counter spell?" Ethan begged.  
  
Willow nodded and nudged her head to the door. Buffy didn't need telling twice, and headed out of the suffocating apartment into the cold evening.  
  
Within seconds, Spike had sprinted out after her. 


	8. Chapter Seven

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples 

--- 

"Slayer, wait up!" Spike called, as he jogged up to the Slayer, who was marching towards Revello Drive with squared shoulders and a look of sheer determination in her face. 

"Spike, not now. I want to go home, get out of these clothes, and eat ice cream. A lot of ice cream. Preferably chocolate chip." 

Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. That was his first mistake of the night, it was clear. He was now faced with a brassed off slayer, one who would kick his ass for ice cream. Buffy simply stared pointedly at the hand on her arm, until Spike carefully removed the offending appendage. It didn't stop him from staying in her personal space though, and giving her that look. The sincere one, that made her insides all gooshy. She hated that. 

"Spike. Please?" There was almost a pleading tone in her voice now. "I've just had enough today. I want to go to my house, get pampered by my mother, and pretend things are normal. Just for a while." 

Spike took a step back, and nodded in silent understanding. 

"If you need anything. To talk or...whatever, I'll be about. Yeah?" When he got the affirmative, he turned tail and headed into the night. The Slayer sighed, and went into her home. 

--- 

Joyce watched as her daughter stormed about the kitchen, preparing a feast of ice cream and syrup. Oh yes, something was wrong. Now the real question would be how to approach it. No doubt it involved her slayer duties, but try as she might, she just couldn't understand her daughters calling. Or her friends. Or her clothes.

"Mom? Why are you staring at me like that?" asked Buffy, watching with interest as her mother shrugged off whatever middle-aged emotions were going around her head.

Joyce sighed, sitting on a stool, and patting the one next to her, indicating that it was talk time.

"Honey. I know you don't like to talk about your slaying, but sometimes I wonder if you don't need an outlet. You look miserable."

Buffy automatically took the defensive.

"I'm not miserable! Honest! See?" she said, taking in a spoonful of ice cream "happy Buffy!"

Joyce frowned, "but..."

"No. No butts. I'm just tired is all, and I do talk about stuff. There's Willow for the girl talks, Xander for the random talks, Giles for the slayage stuff and Spike..."

"Spike?" asked Joyce with surprise. The surprise soon turned to a look of introspection. "I suppose that does make sense. He's been around for a very long time, and he's so understanding. Such a polite young boy."

"Mom. He's as old as dirt. He's not a young boy." Said Buffy with the roll of her eyes.

"Maybe. But he's got the appearance of a young man. And he treats the adults with respect"

"Apart from Giles," snorted Buffy.

"Apart from Giles," agreed Joyce. "But then, I would be less and cordial to a man who had me chained to a bathtub as well."

"Mom!" cried out Buffy, "He's a vampire? Try to remember that, next time you want to advocate for his human rights. He has none."

"No dear, but he has feelings, and that should count for something."

--- 

Buffy had tried to sleep for hours, and it just wasn't working. It was all her mothers fault. Entirely. Had to bring Spike's stupid feelings into it, and his...what did she call them? "Victorian sensibilities?" Yeah mom, that's why he goes all weird when he sees the short skirts. Because he's a "gentleman" Hah.

Buffy sighed, before rolling over, and crawling out of bed. Sleep was so not an option right now. Not when she's thinking about what Spike might be thinking, and oh God, there she goes again. Super perfect headache thoughts. Time to go kill something.

She had just finished shimmying down the drainpipe, when she slammed into a body with a yelp. Whipping around, fist ready to fly, she relaxed when she recognized her pillow. Spike.

"Spike? What are you doing in my yard at two o'clock in the morning?"

Spike shrugged, kicking the dirt with his foot.

"Just checkin' on you. Make sure you weren't wigging or anything." He braced himself for the argument, so imagine his surprise when she laughed.

At his questioning look, Buffy just giggled louder. 

"Wigging? Oh wow, you have been hanging out with me way too much. You'll be doomed to sound like a Scooby" 

Spike shrugged again. "S'worth it." A simple reply that soon wiped the smile from Buffy's face, and replaced it with a look of confusion. 

"Huh? I mean...no, I mean huh? What's worth it? What is it, exactly?" 

Now it was Spike's turn to laugh, as he digested her babble. 

"The permanent bastardization of my vocabulary, pet. It's worth it, if I get to spend time with you." 

There it was again. That vulnerable look that made Buffy just want to wrap him up and promise him safety. 

"Oh," was the most she could muster. What the hell could she say to that? 

Spike, uncomfortable with the well, uncomfortable silence, decided that a diversionary tactic was needed, and fast. 

"So, you up for a spot of slaying, luv? There's a new nest down by the wharf. They're probably heading back there now, before the sun starts to rise." 

Buffy nodded, and they head into the night. Sometimes things were just better left unsaid. 

--- 

By the time the raid was over, Buffy felt on top of the world. It was weird, the way Spike and she managed to silently communicate through a fight, yet still chatted about the mundane things, through the dust. Weird but good. That pretty much summed up their relationship at the moment. Whatever it was. 

Not that it was a relationship. No. Just because she'd blown off potential dates, got bummed out when he left, and wanted to spend her free time with him. She just ...she just wanted to spend time with him. And resume the kissing. Because she's heard hell is the loveliest place in summer, and she was doomed to go there, for lusting after another vamp.


	9. Chapter Eight

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "  
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball  
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.  
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.  
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4  
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.  
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples

--- 

This was a bad idea. It was a very bad idea indeed.

"This is a bad idea," announced Spike, before resuming his pacing along Giles' living room.

Giles sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. I understand that, I do. You, Xander and Willow had all pointed out what a bloody God awful idea this is. However, I am not the one in control here, and Buffy has decided that working with the Initiative is the only key to discovering their true motives."

It was like talking to children sometimes, and Spike was more annoying that either Willow or Xander at the moment. Well, there was a thought that left a man pondering the meaning of life. Why the vampire was getting himself worked up was a mystery. Giles assumed any knowledge they could gain against the commandos would be in Spike's best interest, but apparently not.

Spike suddenly stopped pacing, with a loud sigh.

"Well, if the Slayer's going to be getting buddy buddy with all the soldier boys, I may as well kill some time… and some demons, I suppose. I'll be on patrol."

And with that, Spike was gone in a flurry of black leather.   
  


---   
  


Okay. So maybe Spike had a point. Buffy was really starting to think that this whole undercover thing was one of her worst ideas yet. She sucked at undercover, yet her she was, sucking up to Professor Walsh, who was giving off a seriously wicked vibe right now. When she'd been beeped to come to the caves, she was starting to question just about everything.

"It's a small job," said Professor Walsh. "Reconnaissance. Probably a waste of a Slayer's abilities, but my boys are on assignment so I…"   
  
Buffy nodded, knowing something did not add up, but deciding to play along, as see where this took her.   
  
"We have a reading of a class three sub terrestrial moving through the sewer tunnels just on the edge of town," said Walsh, as she illustrated the location on a map.   
  
"Class three?" asked Buffy. Damn wacky Initiative labels. If they gave her a code name, she might just laugh in their faces. Unless it was something cool, like "Ice Warrior." Nah, she was pretty sure she'd just laugh.   
  
"It's a low-level threat. Minimal aggression. Meager defenses," explained Walsh with a sigh. "They barely show up on the scanner and occasionally turn out to be raccoons." She continued, as she handed Buffy a gun.   
  
Ah yes, because she'd already faced the mocking about using a pointy stick to kill things. Slaying snob. 

With that, Walsh handed Buffy a cam-com unit, and sent her on her way. Buffy got that ooky feeling from the Professor, one that she only got when she knew something was seriously screwy. She needed to warn the others, just in case.   
  


---   
  


She conveniently had to pass Spike's crypt on the way to the raccoon location, and Spike was as good of a person to tell as any, right? He could relay the message for her. It was a time-saver, Giles would be proud. Yeah, proud of her ability to bullshit her way out of everything. God, she was so transparent.   
  
"Spike? You in here?" she called, as she entered the crypt. And he was. Sitting in his damn comfy chair, with nothing but the flicker of the television screen to illuminate his hangout. He turned slowly, a slight smile playing on his features.   
  
"Slayer, you're right on time. The Manchurian Candidate is on in 20, you'll love it." He said, as he patted the dusty chair next to him.   
  
"Sorry Spike, not a social call. Thing to do, things to kill," she said, tapping her thigh with her new tazer gun to illustrate her point.   
  
"Oh," was Spike's simple reply. He looked at her weaponry, with a raised eyebrow, indicating she could probably explain her sudden change in weaponry.   
  
"Yeah, Walsh has sent me out after…something. I'm pretty sure I'm being set up. And all the soldiers? Out tonight. All of them, which does not bode well. I want you to go to Giles. You'll be safe, and you can let him know what's up with me, and…"   
  
She didn't have time to finish the sentence, and Spike had launched from his chair, his face a picture of fury.   
  
"And what? Are you bleeding insane, woman? You're fully aware that it's a trap, so you're going to go prancing in there?" Spike exclaimed.   
  
Buffy frowned. Oh yeah, go Mr. Pointing out the Obvious.   
  
"Yes. I have to know what's going on. I have to be sure that Walsh is as crooked as I think she is. I have to do it, and I can handle myself…unlike other people in this room."   
  
"Oh now Slayer, that was low. A bloke can't change what's been forced on him, and he sure as hell can't change the past." Said Spike, relaxing slightly. He knew it. He knew damn well the Slayer had him over a barrel, and he knew he had to go to the Watchers. If only to warn him of his charge's bloody stupidity.   
  
"Fine. I'm gone. But if you're not at the Watcher's by sunrise, I'll…" Spike trailed off, not sure of a good threat to drive his point home.   
  
"You'll what Spike?" asked Buffy "Tell Giles? Ooo, I'm scared!"   
  
"No, I'll tell your mother, that you're walking into traps, all willy-nilly!" announced Spike triumphantly.   
  
Buffy's face fell. That was dirty. They both knew it. 

"Fine," sighed the Slayer. "Let's go."   
  


---   
  


As soon as that gate clanged shut behind her, Buffy knew it was show time.   
  


---   
  


As soon as Spike felt the bullet enter his shoulder, he knew he was well and truly buggared.   
  


---   
  


Spike arrived at the Watchers and pounded on the door.   
  
"Soldiers boys are out in force. I've been trying to keep them off my scent. Run them in circles. But they keep coming." Exhaled Spike, trying to disentangle himself from the tarp he'd used as protection.   
  
"Why should I help you?" asked Giles, with a note of humor in his voice.   
  
"Ooh! Because I helped you! When you turned into that Fyarl demon, I helped you, didn't I?" said Spike smugly.   
  
"And that was out of the, um, evilness of your heart?" needled Giles.   
  
"Oh, hell no," replied Spike with a laugh "I made you pay me…You right bastard." He paused when the realization hit him. Giles was going to make him pay! For helping the helpless? Where was the man's moral code? He was supposed to be chock full of the stuff. He wouldn't have bloody well taken the stuff, except for saving some Big Bad face. Dammit. Digging around in his pocket, he pulled out a pile of crumpled bills. "That's all that's left. I spent the rest on blood and smokes, which I'll never see again."   
  
Giles took the money, a look of distain on his face, as he attempted to smooth out the wrinkles. Spike sighed, fat lot of help he was going to be. Glancing over at Harris and his bird, Spike smiled. No, smiling didn't affect the whelp enough. He beamed at them. 

"Ah, come on! Circle the wagons. Tend to the wounded here. No time for layabouts." He said with a wink.   
  


---   
  


Buffy was sick. Sick to death of meeting people who seemed to want her dead. Very rarely did they ever change their plans, except for Spike, and possibly Harmony who simply knew better. Now Walsh had locked her in a sewer with two demons she was positive she'd seen in the Initiative labs. Oh yeah, Professor Walsh was going to see some serious results from this, but not the ones she was expecting.   
  
When her gun refused to fire, Buffy quickly dropped it in favor of the wicked sharp dagger Spike had made her bring. Gotta love the foresight on Spike. And that's all she loved. Honest.

Annoyed with her own treacherous thoughts, Buffy decided killing these demons would be some mighty fine therapy.   
  


---   
  


Spike was not faring much better himself. First the whelp had carved into his skin, in an attempt to remove the bullet. Now, thanks to the discovery that it was a sodding tracking device, Red was here with her wonky mojo, while Giles tried to remove it.   
  
Didn't the watcher know that no matter how gentle you were, digging around in a bloke's shoulder still hurt? Apparently he did, considering the booze that had suddenly appeared before him. Well, all right then, he'd cope. Then he'd have to remember to tell them about Buffy. It was very important. And he was getting very tired.   
  
Giles finally fished the transmitter from the wound, and quickly passed it to Xander, who ran around for a few moments, before heading to the bathroom to flush it. It would head away from Giles' apartment, and hopefully lead the soldiers in another direction. God bless the miracle of the modern waste system.   
  
Willow was carefully sewing Spike back up, with the vampire finally gaining some coherent thoughts. His first was of Buffy.   
  
"We've got to go," he said with a wince, as he sat upright.   
  
"Spike!" scolded Willow, who grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down again. "If you don't stay still, this will leave an uglier scar that you're already picturing.   
  
Spike winced at that, but there were more important things to worry about, that a piddly battle scar.   
  
"Buffy. She's out there. Mixed up in God knows what. We have to find her!" protested Spike, causing both Spike and Xander to groan simultaneously.   
  
"Buffy will be fine. She'll check in shortly, I'm sure." Said Giles. "You however are another matter. Lord knows why I'm telling you this," he said with a shake of his head, "it's for your own good. As long as the Initiative is in operation it's not safe for you here."   
  
"No." came the affirmation from the doorway. It was Buffy. She looked tired, and beyond dishevelled, but had the grave expression of someone who had quit playing games. Spike had the overwhelming urge to go to her, but the tightened grip on his shoulder indicated that Willow might not be a fan of the idea.   
  
"It's not safe for any of us," said Buffy. "Maggie just tried to kill me, and she's got demons who work for her."   
  
The gang went silent at the news. They knew the Initiative were a little less than above board, but the had no idea things would get so serious, so fast.   
  
Xander rushed to Buffy's side, to check for injuries, but was swatted away by Buffy.   
  
"We need to stock up on weapons, and find a safe place to gather ourselves. We're in no state to fight these guys ourselves, but I'll be dammed if I'm letting them take us down yet."   
  
With a few nods and murmurs, the gang started organizing themselves.   
  
Buffy strode over to Spike, a questioning look on her face, as Willow finished the stitches.   
  
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little run in with our boys. So what's the plan. Goldilocks? Where are we headed?"   
  
Buffy smiled.   
  
"That's where I need you." 


	10. Chapter Nine

TITLE: " Garden of Eden "   
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball   
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.   
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.   
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4   
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.   
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples

---

  
"This place gives me the Wiggins, and not just in the everyday Sunnydale sense of the word," said Xander, as he wandered around the Crawford mansion main room.

Willow simply rolled her eyes, and took the supplies to the kitchen area. Who knew vampires would even have a kitchen area. Huh. Things you never think about during every day research.

"And another thing? Not a lot of what I'd call good vibes going on in here. Or memories. I had to rescue Giles from this room," noted Xander with a point. "He'd been tortured."

He held on to that last word, as if it would explain the mystery of life to anyone who was listening, but all he got was a strangled cry from Buffy.

"Yes Xander, he was tortured. And Spike was crippled, and I killed Angel, so I'm thinking I'm aware of the bad vibes. Okay? None of it matters. It's safe, it's sun proof, and the Initiative will have no idea about our connection to it. Unless you want to camp out in the school remains? Use some mayor meat as a sleeping bag perhaps?" said Buffy, expectantly. When Xander had the good grace to look sheepishly at the floor, Buffy simply shook her head, and returned to the task of making fire.

"I gather that Spike should be reaching your mother, shortly. Once he returns with her, we can formulate some sort of plan," mused Giles, who had mysteriously left himself out of the designated chores.

"That's if she agrees to go with him, G-man. Spike might have a little trouble luring Joyce out, don't you think?"

Giles snorted a response, letting Willow expound on the details.

"Xander, he has hot chocolate and chats with her once a week. He does that flirty, you're so special thing to her. She'll be here, trust me. Mrs. Summers isn't an idiot, and if Spike arrives screaming "Danger!" than she'll move."

Xander looked to Buffy for clarification, but all he saw was her nodding her head in agreement, while re-arranging wood.

---

"Bloody hell, woman! Do you need me to pack up the kitchen sink as well? I believe my exact words were pack "light," not pack as much as possible" hollered Spike, from the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh Spike, don't worry so much. If I remember everything now, I won't worry later. And if I worry, Buffy worries, and if Buffy worries…"

"Yeah yea yeah! The world as we know it will end. Or at least mine will" snaked Spike, before shaking his had and making a beeline for the television. Well, if he was going to be waiting, he could at least catch up on some telly time.

"Oh," said Joyce as she made her way down the stairs, and peeked through the front window, "that's strange."

"What is?" asked Spike, before joining her in the curtain twitching.

"That sedan, parked across the street? It was there when I went upstairs, but it doesn't look like any body's gotten out of it yet."

If Spike had any, the color would have drained from his face. Grabbing the overnight bag, he started to usher Joyce to the back door.

"Okay, playtime is over. We need to shift it, and sharpish. Those could be military boys over there. We need to get you to Buffy. Now."

Joyce was reluctant to go, leaving all her prized possessions behind.

"Well, maybe we should call Buffy? To warn her?" she asked, reaching for the telephone.

"No!" yelped Spike, "They could be tapping the lines. Last thing we need is that lot showing up at…the place we're going to." He looked around, as if the potential hidden bugs would suddenly reveal themselves.

"We head out. And now. Slayer will have my hide if anything happens to you, and I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if it did."

Joyce smiled, before patting Spike gently on the cheek, and grabbing her bag.

"Right. Let's go then shall we?"

--- "Mom!" cried the ecstatic Slayer, as her mother walked in along side the sauntering vampire.

"Spooks are out in force, Watcher. There was a couple of 'em stationed at the house, but they didn't see us leave."

Giles sighed. Things were beginning to escalate, and he had no idea how to handle the situation. Apparently, Willow did.

"Look! I'm making smores!" she announced to the latest arrivals.

"Well sorted, Red," grinned Spike. "My sweet tooth's been humming all afternoon."

---

The evening had been quiet. It was more a sleepover than a hideout, with stories shared, food cooked, and laughter. Buffy had felt more relaxed this evening than she had for weeks. That in it's self was unnerving. But the fact that everyone was in good spirits, Xander and Spike included, made her worry that things were going to get real bad, real soon. Spike had obviously had a similar thought, when he suddenly stood and announced that he needed a private word with the Slayer.

He nodded towards the kitchen, before heading off in that direction. Buffy disentangled herself from the sleeping bags, and scurried after him.

---

By the time she'd joined him, Spike was involved in his favorite stress reliever: pacing.

"So, what's up?" she asked, before hopping onto one of the counters, and waiting patiently for the vampire to gather his thoughts.

Spike stopped to look at her. She was all optimism and shining light. She'd be the bloody death of him, and he embraced it. God, he really was a poncy sod when he tried. But things needed to be cleared, before all hell broke lose, and he lost the chance. God, this was more frightening than any beastie he'd ever faced.

"The thing is, Slayer…" he began, before immediately losing his bottle. "It's just…how do I put this? Christ on a crutch!" and then he was pacing again. Buffy sighed. This could take a while.

"Spike, just spit it out, okay? I gotta get some sleep. A tired slayer is a something, something. I don't know, ask Giles. Just spill already, the suspense is starting to make my staking hand itch."

She didn't know what hit her. One minute he'd looked up at her, with those damn eyes of his, the next, her arms were wrapped tightly around him, and he kissed the breath right out of her.

He finished the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. She hadn't released him of her hold, and he smiled.

"That was pretty much all I wanted to say. Figured I should get it out of the way, before we get all preoccupied with the staying alive and what not." He said.

Buffy smiled. God, he could piss her off and make her all squishy feeling, all at once. It was amazing.

"Well, it was an interesting statement, that's for sure," she said with a smirk. "Do you mind if I take this moment to offer up a counter argument?"

Spike looked puzzled for only an instant, before Buffy had resumed the kissing, and all rational thought flew from his mind.


End file.
